Time to Move
by CranberryVishnu
Summary: A day in the life of Bryan Fury. This one shot gives us a glimpse into the life of this often misunderstood and rather complex character. Hope you like it.


A funny thing happened…

…on the way to get the mail this morning.

So it was early afternoon and I was lookin' out my kitchen window, droppin' flies into Rosie's web… and far off in the distance I could see that little, familiar cloud of yellow orange dust. Just movin' horizontal like along the old dirt road way out there across the rocky desert, about half a mile away.

 _Mail's early today…_

I decided that the boredom of making that long walk down to the mailbox to get my weekly coupon book and Publisher's Clearing House shit would be better than the boredom of watching Rosie suck bugs dry. I slugged down the rest of my beer crumpled the can and tossed it into the sink.

"I'll be right back buddy."

Rosie made a quarter turn and pulled her little victim closer to her fat brown body - keepin' it away from me.

"What th - ? You tryin' to hurt my feelings? Relax - I'm not gonna take it back."

I grabbed another beer, glanced out the window and gazed out at that merciless Arizona sun baking the trackles desert around me with a nuclear, powered heat.

 _That sun sure looks hot… Better take the whole six pack._

I pushed the door, but instead of opening, it just flopped off of it's hinges and slid down the stairs into the dust.

"Fuck."

The walk was long and my metal superstructure was NOT liking the intense heat. It was about 115 degrees and holding steady. Just another lovely summer day.

With my free hand, I shielded my eyes against the dust and glare… my enhanced optics zoomed in on the mail box… the truck was still there. I sharpened the definition… I could see the mail carrier, he had the hood up and was workin' on the engine.

Eventually, I got into speaking distance and thought I'd try bein' friendly…

"Hey pal, looks like you overheated…"

I held up the last remaining Pabst.

"…I still got a beer left - you want a hit?"

The open hood obscured the guy - I couldn't see his hands.

I pulled the can from its plastic ring.

The hood came down fast and to my surprise, Mr. postman was toting a friggin' KEP (kinetic energy penetrator)!

That thing was designed to tear right through the skin of a tank and was definitely more than enough to snuff me in the blink of an eye. I kept it cool, smiled right back at him and spoke casually.

"I'm beginning to think you're not _really_ a post man at all…"

He laughed - you know the kind of laugh that a guy might make when he's got all the odds stacked in his favor and he wants to gloat about it - rub it in a little.

He waggled his devestating weapon and sunlight sparkeled and gleamed on it as he yelled over to me.

"HA! Whatta genius! You brought a beer to a gunfight! You're nothin' but Hype Fury! You're sloppy, over the hill and once you get a taste of THIS - you'll just be a twisted, smoking pile of shit. So what do you say to that dead man!?"

The furnace-hot wind whipped little threads of yellow dust between us while I just kept smiling at him. He was a little confused, then he got mad.

"What's so goddamn funny?! HUH?! ANSWER ME! Fine - keep grinning like an idot! Time to put you down for good you sick, freak!"

Before he could even get the launcher to his shoulder, I made my move.

I twisted slightly but with insane speed at the hips to begin the motion. The motion that carried through my torso and down my arm, terminating at the hand that held my last beer.

By the time I was at full extention and released, I could already hear the huge CRACKABOOM as the can burst through the sound barrier on it's way to my unsuspecting oponent's fat head.

Have you ever heard the sound a watermelon makes when it's dropped from the top of the Eiffel Tower? No?! Well I have and yeah - it was just like that.

After impact - he stood there for a moment, with his big fancy weapon three quarters of the way to his shoulder. He was trembling slightly… well more like kinda vibrating.

His mouth was still champing away - almost like he was tryin' to say something, but there was only a huge dripping hole right through the center of his head where his nose and eyes should have been. I could see the sky through the fist-sized tunnel in his skull. I shook my head and chuckled softly to myself.

 _Another dumb ass with snazzy weapons and big ambitions._

As he crumpled to the ground, I snagged the launcher. It was pretty bad-ass, and if used by someone with a little skill and half a brain, could have spelled trouble for me.

I turned back towards the trailer. A little silver gleam shimmering in the heat, against the red cliffs in the distance.

"Guess it's time to move…"


End file.
